


Some men like to hear the cannonballs roaring.

by thelittleone (beautybedamned)



Category: Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger
Genre: 10 Genre Fic Challenge, Alternate Universe, Gen, Pre-Canon, Shenanigans are serious business, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautybedamned/pseuds/thelittleone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written for the 10 Genre Fic Meme hosted on my LJ (http://mlina.livejournal.com/631000.html). Title modified from 31 Days Prompt: September 20, 2011 (http://31-days.livejournal.com/2746992.html#cutid1).</p></blockquote>





	Some men like to hear the cannonballs roaring.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyn/gifts).



**Angst/Dark**

He can hear the click of Basco's heels on the cold stone floor and each step reminds him of the turning of a revolver.

"Marvy-chan," comes the whispered taunt, so strange and dissonant as it bounces off the walls of the tunnel. Focusing on keeping his breathing even, Marvelous stays very still as not to disturb the shadows. He already knows that the moment Basco sights him, he's dead.

His arm feels numb and sticky from the blood seeping down from the wound on his shoulder. It's heavy. He had to abandon his sabre some forty steps ago. As he adjusts the grip on his pistol, he takes a shallow breath and focuses only on how it has to end here. It has to end now.

It's difficult to resist the urge to laugh out loud, but he manages. Grief has lodged itself in his throat, but he can already feel it attempting to claw its way out.

Not in vain, he thinks instead, as he straightens to what he can manage of his full height. Your deaths will have not been in vain.

He steps out then, the whole world going deaf save for the sound of gunfire.

 

 **Gen**

"What kind of a name is Basco Ta Jolokia," Marv snickers as he swabs down the deck.

The clink of plates set one atop the other nicely accentuates the snort that follows. "What the hell kind of name is Marvelous?"

It's late on the galleon and AkaRed has gone out top on the crow's nest checking their cooridinates against this new star system, leaving him and Basco to clean up after dinner. Captain's privilege, the older man had put it simply before walking out with a brief wave.

Marv grins and sets an elbow on the blunt end of the mop. "A _marvelous_ one."

Basco just laughs before he disappears back into the kitchen.

 

 **AU ; in a parallel universe where awesome tag team is awesome**

"Leave him, Marv." Basco calls out, stopping short as he notices that his partner hasn't moved from that spot.

"Marv." He says again, eyes transfixed on the way the other man is standing over the fallen soldier who looks up with haunted eyes behind a curtain of long hair. "Marv. Let's go. He's one of them."

He knows though, why Marv is held fast in place. That collar, the one around the boy -- he can't be older than nineteen cycles, Basco thinks -- it's a more streamlined version of the one Zangyak used on their own home world.

The sound of sirens and commands booming over speakerphones grows in the distance and Basco feels his impatience mingling with his fear. If they don't leave now, they'll be caught and hanged for whatever crimes the empire finds suitable enough to pin against their names. Such is the way of a dictatorship. The little guys always get the short end of the stick.

Basco crosses over to Marvelous with purposeful strides, one hand reaching out, fingers fisting on the sleeve of that soot-stained, red coat. "We need to go. Now." He says, but Marv just looks back at him, eyes unblinking.

Cursing softly under his breath, Basco steps back and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. "Fine. Have it your way."

They move in sync, taking one arm each and pitching the soldier's weight between the both of them. "If I didn't trust you with my life, Marvelous, I would shoot you myself. I swear by the stars, your bleeding heart will get us both killed one day."

 

 **Fluff**

Marvelous knows that his nose can always be trusted when it comes to food.

Waking up to the smell of something unfamiliar cooking from deep inside the galley, he follows the scent straight to where a pot of something red and meaty and thick is boiling over the stove. He has no idea what it is, only that certainty that it'll be delicious.

"Out of the way, Marvelous."

Something whacks him lightly on the head and Marv looks up to Basco's wry smirk and lifted eyebrow. The other man hasn't been on their ship three full days, yet the kitchen is now his territory.

"Not until you tell me what this is." Marvelous straightens, his arms crossing over his chest.

Basco taps the wooden ladle against his chin, a thoughtful look washing over his features. "I forget the name, but the Captain said it was a dish from this blue planet he visited once." And then the smirk returns. "Pull up a chair. Your cast iron stomach can try this first batch of sauce for me."

 

 **Pre-Canon ; this assumes my jossed headcanon where Marv & Basco were friends**

Marvelous can't help the smirk that twitches on the corner of his mouth as he stares down the barrel of the gun pointed right in his face.

"You grew up tall, runt. You still look as pretty as a dame, though."

The smirk that accompanies the wry: "Well, better than looking as butt-ugly as you," is familiar; comforting. A flashback to his youth.

The guns go down at the same time and are holstered in perfect sync.

"You cockroach. And here I thought you were dead." Marv grins before he clasps his childhood friend close in a tight embrace.

 

 **Hurt/Comfort**

It's not satisfying at all to see Marv so defeated, Basco thinks bitterly as he hears the cell doors ring shut behind him.

"Get up," he whispers. When Marv doesn't, he walks over to his rival and former shipmate. "Don't spoil my fun, Marvy-chan."

The swift kick he delivers to Marvelous' ribs elicits a cry from the other man, but it does nothing to alleviate the rage that is festering inside of Basco's chest. He kneels then and fists a hand in Marv's hair, jerking up that battered face to search the other man's eyes.

"You're not better than me." He hisses out the words. "I'm winning. I've won."

That smirk. That godawful, self-assured smirk is the last thing he expects from someone who looks like he's half a thread from his grave.

"It was never about who was better, Basco. But you know, if you have to tell yourself you're winning, let me just tell you: you're probably not."

 

 **Wild Card**

When the door to his cell opens, Marvelous squints. The light hurts his eyes. That's kind of what happens when you've been plunged into pitch-black darkness for what was it--? A week? More?

His instinct is to jerk away when fingers catch his chin and panic overtakes him when a mouth covers his own, the taste of bitter copper suddenly on his tongue.

When he can finally breathe again, the air tastes stale and wrong. Marv wants water, something, anything to wash away the foul flavor in his mouth.

When Basco laughs, Marvelous feels his skin go very cold.

"What did you--"

"I'm unimpressed, Marv." Basco's voice sounds strange; inhuman. Then again, was he ever to begin with. "The blood of royalty isn't blue or sweet at all."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 10 Genre Fic Meme hosted on my LJ (http://mlina.livejournal.com/631000.html). Title modified from 31 Days Prompt: September 20, 2011 (http://31-days.livejournal.com/2746992.html#cutid1).


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